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But none of those answers were right. None of them would make it better, and I needed to make it better. I didn’t want to lie to Maggie, not anymore. I knew what she wanted to hear. The problem was I didn’t know if I would really mean it, or if I would be lying to get myself out of a bad situation. I began small.

“I’m sorry I didn’t return any of your calls or texts the past couple of weeks.” Did I mean that? Yes, I was sorry about that. If I had taken the time to even say hi back, I wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with. Okay, so far so good. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.” Also true. I was on a roll. “I’m sorry I took you and our friendship for granted. I was in so much pain, I couldn’t see beyond what I wanted and needed.” Whoa, where did that come from? It felt true. I kept going. “And I’m sorry I lied to you over and over again.” Oh shit. Maggie didn’t know I’d ever lied to
her. Please, please, please say you didn’t hear that last part.

I hurried on. “Can we go inside? Or go for a ride or something? I feel stupid standing in your doorway like this.”

“Then feel stupid. I obviously get to feel stupid while my best friend explains all the times she’s lied to me.”

How in the hell was I going to get out of this one?

“Maggie, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just sometimes it’s easier to, I don’t know. It’s like when you know something’s going to cause a big drama, so you don’t say anything. You know?”

She scoffed. “You? Not want to cause drama? Are you kidding me? You are the
queen
of wreaking havoc! When has consideration for my peace and quiet
ever
stopped you from bursting into my life?”

This was not going well, and she was starting to piss me off again. “Seriously, Maggie, I need a cigarette. Can’t we go smoke somewhere?”

“Then smoke. Mom won’t be home for hours. Girls’ night out.” Girls’ night out, in Maggie’s mom’s world, was code for trolling bars for the next likely suspect. She wouldn’t come home until some guy was drunk enough to look past the fact she was a middle-aged single mother of a teenager. There was a good chance she wouldn’t come home even then. She would stay at his house instead. How many girls’ nights out had I been grateful for because it meant I had Maggie and her house all to myself? How many nights had I missed the obvious pain and anger on Maggie’s face? I knew the answer. Too many.

“Fine. Come out to my car with me then. Please?”

She shrugged. “Whatever. I need one anyway.”

When we got closer to the car, Maggie spied the overstuffed bag in the back seat. “Going somewhere?”

I had come this far—might as well dive in with both feet. “Well, actually, I guess I am.”

“What do you mean? Where are you going?”

“There’s kind of a funny story about that.” Maggie raised her eyebrows, indicating I should tell said funny story. “Let me give you the short version. I got a job taking care of this old guy. It’s a full-time, live-in kind of thing. I’m going to work for him through the summer until I leave for school.”

“And your parents are okay with that? How did you find this job? Are you even qualified? What’s wrong with him? Wait, school? Where are you going? You didn’t even tell me you were accepted somewhere.”

“Slow down, scooter. I got accepted at OU. I just found out a few days ago. And yes, I’m qualified. It’s not like he’s dying or anything.” But that wasn’t really true, was it? I didn’t know what was wrong with Ken. “I stumbled into it through a mutual friend. As far as my parents are concerned, well…” I let the sentence die. What else could I say? It was complicated, and I was worn out. I should have known Maggie wouldn’t let it go.

“What do you mean ‘well’? They do know you’re moving out, right? God, Persephone, please don’t tell me you’re running away like some little kid!”

“Wouldn’t you? I have the chance to get out! I have to take it!”

“Persephone! This is crazy! You’re moving in with some old guy, without your parents’ permission I might add, and you’re acting like it’s no big deal. Do you even know this guy? He could be some sick twist that will kill you in your sleep!”

“Listen, Maggie, there’s more to the story. It’s not like that. I know the guy. I mean, I’ve been going over there for a while. I’ve even spent the night there. He’s really a good—”

“What the hell, Persephone? God, I don’t know anything about you anymore! What do you mean you’ve been going over there? You are so, so… Jesus, I don’t even know the right word. I just can’t believe you!”

“Please, Maggie, listen to me. I’ll tell you the whole thing. Better yet, why don’t you come with me to his house? You can meet him for yourself. I can tell you all about it on the way there. C’mon. You’ll really like him.” I could see her cracking. It was probably more out of curiosity than forgiveness, but I took what I could get. “Seriously, what else are you going to do? It’ll be fun.”

“Fine. I’ll grab my purse and lock the door. I still think this is a really bad idea, for the record.”

“Duly noted.”

On the way to Ken’s, I filled her in on the missing details—the phone calls from James, the first time I went over to Ken’s to read (“Jesus, Persephone! You didn’t even know the guy! Are you stupid?”), and the job offer. I left out some of the more intimate details like why I spent the night there and Ken’s sister. It wasn’t really lying—it was more like a sin of omission. A step in the right direction at least.

When I was done, Maggie stared out the window and stayed silent. I wanted to ask her what she was thinking—if we were okay now—but I was scared of the answer. Once you got on her shit list, it was damn near impossible to get off. My only hope was all the good memories of our friendship would outweigh the crappy ones.

“So here we are.” My announcement seemed to startle her. The car had been quiet too long.

“Yep. Well, let’s go in and meet this guy.”

Ken was dozing in the recliner when we came in. It was a little after five, and I wondered how long he had been asleep. Had he been waiting on me? Great, my first day ‘on the job’, and I was already screwing things up.

“Ken, it’s me. Wake up.” I gently tapped his shoulder, and he came awake with a start and his fists clenched.

“Oh, Persephone, it’s you. Sorry, I was just resting.”

“That’s okay. I hope it’s alright, I brought a friend with me. She wanted to meet you.” It made him sound like an exhibit at a carnival sideshow.

“No, that’s fine. Come on in.” He struggled to get out the chair, and I put out my arm to help steady him. His weight wasn’t as hard to hold as I thought it would be. When had he gotten so thin and why hadn’t I noticed before now?

Maggie was all but huddled in the entryway. I realized the one thing I hadn’t told her about was the sheer force of Ken’s presence. Sure, he scared the crap out of me the first time we met, but that seemed so long ago. He was just Ken now. I wanted to tell her it was okay, he wasn’t nearly as scary as he looked. Ken beat me to it.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite. I’m Ken. And you are?” He held out his hand, and Maggie stepped forward.

“I’m Maggie,” she whispered, letting her hand be swallowed in his.

He turned to me. “She’s just as quiet as you were. How about that.”

“She’s not usually. Maggie, say something.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” I giggled at how similar she sounded to me the first time I met Ken.

“Why don’t you girls come in and sit down? Would you like something to drink?” Maggie shook her head, obviously still too intimidated to say much. “Persephone, would you mind getting me some tea? I think I would like to sit back down.”

“Yeah, sure. Are you okay?”

“Fine, fine.” He waved his hand, dismissing me. I was hurt by the gesture but more concerned about the color, or lack thereof in his face. Once again, I wondered when all of this had happened. When did he start looking so old?

I returned with his tea to find him still trying to draw Maggie out. “So are you off to school as well this fall?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Maggie’s going to MU. She’s really smart and got an almost perfect on her ACT. All kinds of scholarships, right, Maggie?” I bragged. She only nodded.

“Well, good for you. What will you study there?”

She cleared her throat. “Pre-med. I’m going into medical research. I’m going to cure MS.”

This caught my attention. It was the first time I’d heard about this plan. I always knew she wanted to go into medicine, but I had no idea about the research. What the hell was MS? And more importantly, why the hell did she want to cure it?

“That certainly sounds ambitious.” Ken was obviously impressed. “What made you choose that?”

Maggie glanced in my direction, hesitating before answering. “A friend of mine, his dad has multiple sclerosis.”
What the hell? What friend?
My dad was, as much as I wished it wasn’t the case, in perfect health. “I mean, this guy I used to date, Mickey, his dad has it.”

Mickey! That was his name!
Did I remember Maggie telling me about his dad? Did I remember Maggie telling me anything, period? Not really. I did, however, remember alternating between making fun of his name and his stereotypical Irish appearance. Jesus.

“There was this one time I was at his house and Mick’s dad had an attack. They call it an episode. Anyway, his legs started to spasm, and he collapsed. Mick had to carry him to bed like a baby. Mick’s a big guy, but so is his dad. It was hard to watch, but it was kind of beautiful, too, you know? It’s just the two of them. His mom left a few months after his dad was diagnosed. It’s really hard on them. We don’t really see each other much anymore. I mean, I haven’t seen him at all. We texted a few times, but, you know.” She shrugged, trying to be casual about something that obviously meant a lot to her. “His dad was getting worse, and Mick spends a lot of his time taking care of him. And I…” She looked me in the eye and said, “I had my own obligations to take care of.”

Heart meet floor. And here’s a curb stomp to finish the job.
I reached for her hand. “Maggie, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

She let me briefly hold her fingers before putting her hand back in her lap.

“I know.”

I guess things weren’t all better yet. Guilt, shame and anger collided in one sickening pool in my stomach. She should have told me! We were together all the time! At any point she could have said, “Hey, Persephone, you know that guy I’m dating? Yeah, I really like him, and his dad’s sick, and I’m worried.” I would have listened. I would have been there for her. I would have told her to go spend time with him. It wasn’t my fault she never said anything! But was that true? Really?

Silence joined us in the living room, sidling up and whispering words of regret, sadness and anger into my ears.
You weren’t there for her. You are a bad friend. No, it’s worse than that. You’re a bad person. You are selfish and cruel. How many cuts will it take to make this better? How much blood are you willing to sacrifice this time?

Ken finally broke through. “Alright girls, it’s getting close to dinner time. We’re going to order pizza. I prefer pepperoni from Imo’s. If you would like something different, feel free to order another for yourselves. If not, I think an extra-large should feed us all. Persephone, there is cash in the coffee can on the kitchen counter. I think I will take a short nap. Please wake me up when it gets here.”

“Okay. Everything okay?”

He nodded, pushing himself out of his chair, but didn’t say anything.

“Ken?”

“I’m fine, Persephone.”

I was once again struck by his sudden change in mood and chilly tone. Did he realize
I
was the obligation Maggie was talking about? Was he angry? Disappointed? I needed so desperately for him to turn around and smile. Pat me on the head. Anything to let me know everything was okay. But he left the room and a few moments later I heard his door shut.

“So that’s Ken, huh? He’s nice, I guess. Listen, I don’t think I’ll stick around for the pizza thing. Can you take me home?”
Fine, you can leave me, too. What the hell do I care? Screw you both.

“Yeah, I guess so. I can just pick up the pizza, I guess.”
And razors. Oh, and bandages.

“I just, you know, want to be at my house and stuff. No offense.”

“Yeah, no, I get it.”
You could ask her to stay. She doesn’t know you need her unless you tell her.

“Okay, well.”
She might need you, too.

“I’ll get my keys.”
She doesn’t need someone like you. Someone who cuts her own body and lies and runs away and uses people. No one needs you. And no one wants you.
I stood in the living room entryway, waiting for some other voice to tell me something different.

“Persephone?” Maggie was getting impatient.

“Maggie, would you please stay? I know you want to go home. I know I shouldn’t ask. And I will take you home if you want me to. But could you just stay for a little while? I feel so lost.”

Maggie knelt down on the floor beside me and wrapped her arms around me. “Me too, but we’re going to be okay.”

I tried to nod but ended up head butting her in the chin instead. It was the moment we needed to break through. Tears and pain were replaced by laughter and acceptance. It was time to order pizza.

His room was dark save for a small, dim lamp on the nightstand—a nightstand covered in prescription bottles.
Take two as needed for pain. Take as needed. Take (4) four 3 times a day with food. Take as needed for sleep. Take 2 once a day.
I kept picking up bottles. What were they all for? Again, I knew I didn’t want the answer to my question. I could pretend I had never seen them. I had spent my life convincing myself things weren’t true—weren’t really happening. I could make this go away, too.

“Ken?” I whispered. “Ken?” His hand flew from his side and locked around my wrist. His eyes were open and staring at me, unknowing and uncaring. It’d never occurred to me that maybe I wasn’t the only one with nightmares.

“Ow! Ken! Let go!” I tried to pull free, giving myself an Indian burn in the process. “
Ken!
Please!
” The cloud seemed to lift and he released my arm. I backed away, not knowing if I should run or comfort him.